Annoyances
by redcandle
Summary: Angelina wants Montague to listen to her. AngelinaMontague. Ficlet.


"Annoyances" by Redcandle17

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and elements from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.

The way Sir Nicholas sat with his head hanging off his neck by a sliver of tendon annoyed Angelina. Umbridge's stupid little coughs annoyed Angelina. The sound of Roger Davies laughing in the corridors annoyed Angelina. Everything annoyed Angelina these days, especially the sight of redheaded males.

That's why she ducked into an empty classroom to avoid Fred and George. She still hadn't forgiven them for getting themselves thrown off the Quidditch team last week, and she didn't trust herself not to start yelling at them again. Angelina closed the door and exhaled loudly, debating skipping Charms class to take a nice soak in the prefects – and Quidditch captains' – bathroom.

She was wholly unprepared for the hand massaging the back of her neck and the voice saying, "Tough day, Johnson," into her ear. Apparently the room hadn't been empty after all. Her day just kept getting worse and worse. She spun around to face Montague, one of the biggest annoyances in her life.

"No thanks to you. If you insist on showing up to ruin my team's practices, the least you can do is not inflict your attempts to sing on us. And get your hand off me."

Montague placed his hands on the door behind her and leaned closer. "A little music is a pretty nice way to start the day. Though since you actually go out with one of them, you probably don't appreciate 'Weasley Is My King' very much."

"Is that how Slytherins entertain themselves? Making fun of people for being poor and calling their mothers names? Much less exciting than the rumored sacrifices of kneazles."

"You didn't meet me last night."

She'd much rather have continued to trade insults about their Houses. "I wasn't in the mood."

"You haven't been in the mood in weeks. I'm beginning to get tired of waiting."

"Waiting? Is that what you were doing kissing Rhea Blotts outside the library two days ago?"

"You have Weasley; you can't complain about her or any other girl."

"Fred and I haven't so much as talked to each other in days." Angelina shoved at his chest. "And stop hovering over me."

Montague didn't budge. "You used to like having me over you very much. What's the matter, Johnson?"

"I have no beaters, no seeker, and an easily intimidated keeper; I'm sure to fail my DADA N.E.W.T. because I've got an incompetent bitch for a teacher; I don't even want to look at my boyfriend anymore - every fucking thing's the matter, Montague."

Montague kissed her cheek. "You'd feel better if you relaxed and enjoyed yourself for a while."

Angelina closed her eyes without replying and let him kiss her. It did feel good at the moment, though she knew it was just something else to fret over later. She wrapped her arms around him and tipped her head back to let him kiss her neck so she could relax without doing anything. He felt warm and solid, and she couldn't be bothered to care who he was.

At first their relationship – if secret meetings to snog could be called a relationship – was about the thrill of the forbidden. It mattered very much two years ago who he was and who she was. Now Angelina didn't care who he was. She didn't want excitement, she wanted comfort. She suspected Montague would laugh and then run away as fast as he could if she told him that.

"I'm tired," she said abruptly.

"What? We just got started. I'm missing an Apparation lesson for this."

"You shouldn't. You'll never pass your exam if you keep missing lessons."

Montague held her at arm's length to look at her. "What is wrong with you, Angelina? You've been acting strange for weeks."

He'd never used her first name before. He must really be worried – or annoyed at being inconvenienced. Angelina didn't have the energy for this anymore.

"I'm tired of you and everyone else. Leave me alone."

"I haven't done anything to you!" Montague let go of her to run his hands through his hair. "Can't we just snog? Save this crap –whatever it is – for Weasley."

"No," Angelina informed him. "I've decided that it's not fair, and it's too much trouble for me. From now on, whomever I snog has to listen to me complain about my day, too."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! What the fuck do you want from me?"

"Nothing," Angelina lied.

Montague took a deep breath and stared off into space. Finally he said, "Tell me about your day." He grabbed a chair, and stared at her expectantly.

Angelina settled herself into his lap and began to complain about the surprise quiz she had in Muggle Studies that morning. She suddenly felt much better. She suppressed a smile at the look of resigned suffering on Montague's face and snuggled closer to him as she continued reciting a litany of things that annoyed her lately.

End


End file.
